I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, | 

I UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.| 




m^if»t^^:^m^sm&mm^Mm*»mmm:?^f«fmm 



HYMNS. 



HARRIEI^ M<EWEN KIMBALL. 




''> of y/ash\n^° 



BOSTON 



E. p. DUTTON AND COMPANY, 

135, Washington Street 



1S67. 






Eutered, aceordiDg to Act of Congress, iu the year 1866, by 
E. V. BUTTON A>D COMPANY, 

[n the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



CAMBRIDGE : 
PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON. 




I. 

Page 

Jesus ! the Ladi>er of my Faith 7 

Via Dolorosa 9 

My Knowledge 11 

A Hymn of Confession 13 

The Pearl of Great Price . 15 

The Offering 17 

Hymns for Good Friday: — 

I. — Forsaken 24 

n. — Father, Forgive Them 26 

Hymn for the Holy Communion 28 

The Rebuke 30 

Jesus, take my Sins away 32 

Return 34 

Praying in Spirit 36 

Trust 38 

The Two Cities 40 

Doubt 43 

Humble Service 46 

iii 



CONTENTS. 

Pagk 

My Field 4S 

A Harvest Hymn 50 

The Bell in the Tower ^3> 

The Worldling 5^ 

The River 60 

All's Weli 62 

II. 

The Guest 67 

The Beloved Teacher 69 

Charlie 7- 

On the Death of a Child 78 

"Red, White, and Blue" So 

After the Storm Sj 




H Y M xN S. 



r 



C5] 




JESUS ! THE LADDER OF MY FAITH. 




1ESUS ! the ladder of my faith 



Rests on the jasper walls of Heaven ; 
And through the veiling clouds I catch 
Faint visions of the mystic Seven ! 



The glory of the rainbowed Throne 

Illumes those clouds like lambent flame ; 

As once, on Earth, Thy love divine 

Burned thro' the robes of human shame. 

7 



HYMNS. 

Thou art the same, O gracious Lord ! 

The same dear Christ that Thou vvert then ; 
And all the praises angels sing 

Delight Thee less than prayers of men ! 

We have no tears Thou wilt not dry ; 

We have no wounds Thou wilt not heal ; 
No sorrows pierce our human hearts 

That Thou, dear Saviour ! dost not feel. 

Thy pity, like the dew, distils ; 

And Thy compassion, like the light, 
Our every morning overfills. 

And crowns with stars our every night. 

Let not the world's rude conflict drown 
The charmed music of Thy Voice, 

That calls all w^eary ones to rest. 

And bids all mourning souls rejoice ! 




VIA DOLOROSA. 



In the world ve shall have tribulation." — St. John xvi. 33. 



ilMi 



Y Saviour said : " Take up thy cross 
And follow me where I may lead ; 
Count every earthly treasure dross, 
And, losing, find thy life indeed." 



I raised my burden ; it was light : 
Alas ! how heavy it has grown ! 

O toilsome way ! O cruel height ! 
Lord, can I bear my cross alone? 



My foes, unnumbered and unseen. 

Press madly round me day and night ; 



HYMNS. 

I have no friend on whom to lean ; 
I shik in sorrow and affright ! 

O blessed Voice ! . . . I hear Him say : 
" Lo, I am with thee till the end ; 

Thy strength shall fail not through thy day, 
And I am thy Eternal Friend." 

The burdens of the world He bore, 

And shall I shrinlv from bearing mine? 

Alone He walked in anguish sore, 

But me upholds with love divine. ^ 

His graee can smooth the roughest road ; 

The way He hallowed I will take : 
How heavy, yet how light the load 

That I must bear for His dear sake ! 

Through tribulation though He lead, 

He maketh self-denial sweet ; 
My life I lose each day indeed 

To find it at my Saviour's feet ! 

lO 




MY KNOWLEDGE. 




HOUGH men confront the living God 

With wisdom than His Word more wise, 
And leaving paths apostles trod 
Their own devise ; 
I would myself forsake and flee, 
O Christ, the living Way, to Thee ! 



I know not what the schools may teach. 
Nor yet how far from truth depart ; 

One lesson is within my reach — 
The Truth Thou art : 

II 



HYMNS. 



And learning this, I learn each day 
To cast all other lore away. 

I cannot solve mysterious things, 

That fill the schoolmen's thoughts with strife 
But oh ! what peace this knowledge brings, 

Thou art the Life ; 
Hid in Thy everlasting deeps, 
The silent God His secret keeps. 

The Way, the Truth, the Life Thou. art ! 

This, this I know ; to this I cleave ; 
The sweet new language of my heart — 

" Lord, I believe : " 
I have no doubt to bring to Thee ; 
My doubt has fled, my faith is free ! 





A HYMN OF CONFESSION. 




EAR Lord ! to Thee alone I dare 
The record of my sins repeat ; 
Thou knowest all before my prayer 
Is breathed in sorrow at Thy feet. 



My newest griefs to Thee are old ; 

My last transgression of Thy law, 
Though wrapped in thought's most secret fold, 

Thine eyes with pitying sadness saw. 

13 



HYMNS. 

Not Thine Omniscience, but Thy grace 

Leads me to seek Thee day and night, 
When I should shrink from human face. 

Were this frail heart in human sight- 
Hope that Thy love will hide my shame 

With pardon tender, full, and sweet, 
Bestowed when asked in Jesus' name, — 

This bows me, Father ! at Thy feet. 




14 




THE PEARL OF GREAT PRICE. 




HERE is a wondrous pearl whose price 
No angel's tongue could name ; 
It was not from the Persian Gulf 
This lustrous treasure came : 



Not from the Coromandel coast, 

Nor yet from any sea 
That laves the shores of any lands, 

Or pearl-famed isles that be. 



15 



HYMNS. 

This gem from dej^ths of Love Divine 
The Heavenly Bridegroom brought, 

A marriage-token to the Bride 
His Cross and Passion bought. 

Earth's rarest pearls are dross beside 

This "jewel of the just," 
Whose beauty Time can never dim 

Nor crumble into dust. 

When Heaven shall make the marriage-feast. 

In dazzling raiment drest. 
The Bride will meet the Lord of Life — 

His love-gift on her breast. 

Its peerless light shall evermore 

Her songs of praise inspire. 
While " Holy, Holy, Holy Lord," 

Peals from the Heavenly choir ! 



i6 




THE OFFERING. 



"What shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits to- 
wards me?" — Ps. cxvi. 12. 

" In every place incense shall be offered unto My Name, and a 
pure offering." — Mal. i. ii. 

" The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken and con- 
trite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise." — Ps. li. 17. 




AVIOUR, is there any thing 
I have foiled to bring? 
I^ies my offering at Thy feet 
Incomplete ? 



Lord, bethink Thee, I am poor ; 
Slender is my store ; 



17 



HYMNS. 

Yea, my best is nothing worth 
Even on earth ; 

Even to men : O then how small 

To the Lord of all, 
Who, creating worlds anew, 
As the dew 

Sweeps them lightly from their place 

In the fields of space ; 
Counts the Universe as nought 
But a thought ! 

Yet since Thou hast deigned to ask. 

how sweet the task 
(Though the gift be poor), to bring 

Every thing ! 

Every thing? Alas, this fear! 

1 may yet appear 
Holding some dear bauble fast 

At the last. 
i8 



HYMNS. 

Saviour, is there any thing 

I have failed to bring? 

Lies my offering incomplete 

At Thy feet? 

Answered He : " If thou hast brought, 

Clothing every thought, 
Love to God and love to man 
As men can ; 

" Charity for all who stray 

From the narrow way ; 
Eager hands to draw them back, 
And point the track ; 

" Gifts according to thy store 

For the needy poor ; 
In my suffering ones dost see 
Even me ; 

" If thy tears are swift to flow 
For thy brother's woe ; 

19 



HYMNS. 

Having strength, if thou dost seek 
To raise the weak ; 

" If thou dost My mercy show 

Even to thy foe ; 
Grant the pardon proffered thee, 
Full and free ; 

" Yea, if thou thy will hast brought 
Crossing Mine in nought ; 
Faith that shall outlast thy breath, 
vStrong in death ; 

" Matters not th}- world's estate. 

Be it small or great ; 
This thy offering thou dost bring 
Every tJiingl^^ 

Nay, my Lord, my Lord ! I cried ; 

I am sorely tried ; 
Nothing, nothing have I brought 
That I ought ! 



HYMNS. 

Cold my love to Thee, Most High ; 

Cold my charity ! 
Idle hands and heart of stone 
Are my own. 

Mine an unsubdued will ; 
Faith that gropeth still ; 
Yet, O God my Righteousness, 
Bless, O bless ! 

This at least to Thee I bring — 

Meek petitioning ; 
Humble penitence and pain ; — 
Is it vain? — 

Strong desire to serve Thee more 

Than I have before ; 
And in Thy suffering ones to see 
Even Thee ! 

Now indeed my tears do flow 
For all others' woe, 

21 



HYMNS. 

Tasting grief that doth surpass 
All, alas ! 

Hear me, Lord of earth and sky ! 

At Thy feet I lie ; 
My confessions all I bring — 
Every thing ! 

Pitying Lord, wilt Thou despise 

This my sacrifice? 
Tell me. Saviour, do I bring 
A^iy thi7ig? 

Answered He : "At last, at last 

Is thy pride o'erpast ! 
Little is thy best, indeed ; 
Great thy need. 

" Yet, beloved of m}- Heart, 

I for thee did smart ; 
On the Cross in thy dear stead 
Bowed My Head : 

22 



HYMNS. 

" Through death's sharpest, sorest throes 

I triumphant rose, 
Even that thou mightest be 
Raised with Me. 

" Is My love for thee grown less 

That I should not bless ; 
Or the lowliest sacrifice 
Should despise? 

" Nay ; but I am satisfied, 

Having all beside 
Since that erring heart of thine, 
On My shrine, 

" Broken, contrite, suppliant lies — 

Sweetest sacrifice ! 
In that offering thou dost bring 
Every thing ! " 



23 



HYMNS FOR GOOD FRIDAY. 



I. 



FORSAKEN. 



*' He was wounded for our transgressions, . . . and with his 
stripes we are healed." — Is. xliii. 5. 




N anguish mortal could not bear 

Lo, on the cross Immanuel dies ! 
Crowned with the thorns of sacrifice 
He drains the cup of Earth's desjDair. 



Within Gethsemane's sacred shade 

The angel stood a little space 

While, with the blood-sweat on His face, 
The Man of Sorrows prostrate prayed. 

24 



HYMNS. 

No more — the angel comes no more ! 
In silence bowed before the Throne 
His hosts attend His dying moan 

Withdrawn from Him whom they adore. 

" Forsaken, O my God ! " He cries ; 

That cry the temple's vail hath rent ; 

The heavens in awftd stillness bent 
Are darkened with the death He dies ! 

The horror-stricken universe, 
Like a vast sea in wild unrest 
Transfixed with wide upheaving breast. 

Feels the slow-lifting of the curse. 

Hark ! while His dumb wounds intercede 
For man who led his Lord to die. 
There comes an answering, human cry : 

" This was the Son of God, indeed ! " 

The Christ ! the Christ ! Rejecting Earth, 

In vain for thee a second flood ; 

Yet in the washing of His blood 

Thy children find a second birth ! 

25 



HYMNS. 

Flee, frail and trembling heart of mine, 
To Him thy Refuge and thy Strength ! 
The solemn shadows lift at length 

And even Sinai's summits shine : 

Shine in the glorious beams that break 
Around the Cross of Him who saith : 
" I have redeemed thy soul from death 

Forsaken, I will ne'er forsake ! " 



II. 



FATHER, FORGIVE THEM." 




O Voice that pleads " Forgive! 



Forgive ! " though crowned with thorns, 

And mocked with many a jeer : 
26 



L 



HYMNS. 

" Forgive ! " though tortured by the nails, 
And wounded by the spear. 

O crimson tide of love 

Out-gushing from His side, 
Flow down, and wash the gtiilty earth 

Where He is still denied ! 

In penitence my soul 

Takes up that cry, " Forgive ! " 
Flow down, and wash away my sins 
That I may look and live ! 




27 




HYMN FOR THE HOLY COMMUNION. 




T this Thy banquet, Lord of all, 

May less than angel dare to sup ? 
The crumbs that from Thy Table fall 
Unworthy we to gather up. 



Yet oh ! too poor to turn away, 

Too glad to own Thy gracious claim, 

We stay because Thou bid'st us stay. 
Despite our garb of want and shame. 
28 



HYMNS. 

Before Thine Altar kneeling low 
We bare our sinful hands to Thine ; 

O Holy Lord, Thy pity show, 

And cleanse us with Thy touch divine ! 

Fill Thou these empty palms with food — 
The Bread Thou broughtest from above ; 

This cup with Thy most precious Blood — 
The wine of Thy atoning Love ! 

The hunger and the thirst we plead 
No meaner feast could satisfy ; 

O Saviour, in our utter need 

Thou, Thou must feed us, or we die ! 




29 




THE REBUKE. 




HEARD, and disobeyed ! 

Thy judgment-hand, O God, 
Uplifted, smote me to the earth 
In the dark way I trod. 



Low- lying in the dust, 
Broken by Thy reproof, 

I said, " His merc}^ I have lost ; 
Wrath holdeth Love aloof." 



30 



HYMNS. 

Humbly I wept and prayed — 

No more by sin enticed ; 
Then, lifting up my streaming eyes, 

Beheld the wounded Christ. 

Lo ! in His bleeding hands 
Love's richest pledge I see ; 

And mercy's sweetest message falls 
From His dear lips for me. 

O just and holy God ! 

Thy wrath I read amiss : 
The love that follows Thy rebuke — 

Was ever love like this? 




31 



JESUS, TAKE MY SINS AWAY. 




OLY One ! whose heavenly splendor 
Faith doth shadow forth in visions, 
Through the homage angels render, 
Hearken to my poor petitions ! 
Night and day, 
Hear me crying, hear me crying, 
"Jesus, take my sins away ! " 



All the story Love hath written 
In Thy blood for Earth to ponder 

I have read, and read, till smitten 
With belief too rapt for wonder. 

32 



HYMNS. 

Night and day 

Hear me crying, hear me crying, 

"Jesus take my sins away ! " 

Bruised and bleeding 'neath the burden 
Of my manifold transgressions ; 

Clinging to Thy Cross for pardon 
While I stammer my confessions ; 
Night and day. 

Hear me crying, hear me crying, 
"Jesus, take my sins away ! " 




33 




RETURN. 



ETURN, O wanderer from the fold, — 

The Heavenly Shepherd's loving keep ! 
With grief, no language ever told, 
He mourns thee, numbering o'er His sheep, 
And all the bJessed angels weep. 




All day He waits with yearning face ; 
His weary eyes no slumber take ; 

But when the night steals on apace, 
His feet the sheltered flock forsake, — 
Through thorns their bleeding way they make 
34 



HYMNS. 

Those feet the highest Heights have trod ,• 
That head the Crown of crowns possessed 

He left the blazing Throne of God, 
And humbly as a shepherd dressed 
For thee resigned his ancient rest. 

In all the dark no ray is seen ; 

His anguished face alone appears ; 

No answer breaks the hush between 
Those calls that reach angelic ears, 
And move the pitying heaven to tears. 

O Holy Shepherd ! not in vain 

Thy care. Thy sorrowing search shall be ! 

The w^andering soul that wrought Thy pain. 
Must hear, must heed, must haste to Thee, 
No more Thy fold of love to flee ! 




PRAYING IN SPIRIT. 



** But thou, when thou prajest, enter into thy closet, and when 
thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret." — 
St. Matt. vi. 6. 




NEED not leave the jostling world, 
Or wait till daily tasks are o'er, 
To fold my palms in secret prayer' 
Within the close-shut closet door. 



There is a viewless, cloistered room. 
As high as heaven, as fair as day, 

Where, though my feet may join the throng, 
My soul can enter in and pray. 
36 



HYMNS. 

When I have banished wayward thoughts, 
Of sinful works the fruitful seed, 

When folly wins my ear no more, 
The closet door is shut, indeed. 

No human step approaching, breaks 
The blissful silence of the place ; 

No shadow steals across the light 
That falls from my Redeemer's face ! 

And never through those crystal walls 
The clash of life can pierce its way, 

Nor ever can a human ear 

Drink in the spirit-words I say. 

One hearkening, even, cannot know 

When I have crossed the threshold o'er, 

For He, alone, who hears my prayer, 
Has heard the shutting: of the door ! 



37 




TRUST. 




O Him who hears, I whisper all ; 

And softlier than the dews of heaven 
The tears of Christ's compassion fall : 
I know I am forsfiven ! 



Wrapt in the peace that follows prayer 

I fold my hands in perfect trust, 
Forgetful of the cross I bear 

Through noonday heat and dust. 
38 



HYMNS. 

No more Life's mysteries vex my thought 

No cruel doubts disturb my breast ; 
My heavy-laden spirit sought 

And found the promised rest. 




39 




THE TWO CITIES. 




N the dusky shores of evening, stretched in 
shining peace It lies, 
City built of clouds and sunshine — wonder 
of the western skies ! 



While I watch, and long for pinions thitherward to take 

my flight, 
Slowly the aerial city fedes and vanishes from sight. 



Ruby dome, and silver temple, circling wall of amethyst. 
Fall in silence, leaving only purple ruin hung with mist, 
40 



HYMNS. 

Darkness gathers eastward, westward ; stronger waxeth 

my desire, 
Reaching through celestial spaces, glittering as with rain 

of fire, 

To the City set in jasper, having twelve foundations fair. 
Flashing from their jewelled splendor every color soft 
and rare. 

Twelve in number are its gateways — numbered by the 

Seer of old — 
Every gate a pearl most lustrous ; and its streets are 

paved with gold. 

In the midst, in dazzling whiteness, lightens the Eternal 

Throne ; 
From it flows the Living Water — round it gleams an 

emerald zone. 

Luscious fruits, and balmy odors, healing leaves, and 

cooling shade, 
Either side the Life-tree sheddeth, by sweet storms of 

music swayed. 

41 



HYMNS. 

O thou grand, untempled City, seen by John in visions 

bright. 
Glory-flooded, needing neither sun by day nor moon by 

night ; 

Filled forever and forever by the shining light of Him 
Who redeemed the world, and sitteth throned between 
the Seraphim ! 

Through thy lovely gates the nations of the saved in tri- 
umph stream, 

Chanting praise above all praises— love of love their 
holy theme ! 

They no more shall thirst, or hunger ; they no more with 

heat shall faint ; 
Christ for tears will give them gladness — blissful rest for 

sore complaint. 

Blessed they who do His bidding ! cries the Angel, day 

and night ; 
They shall find abundant entrance — they shall walk with 

Him in white ' 
42 



-^ 




DOUBT. 



sal 



Y heart is heavy at her prayers : 

" God may bow down," she saith, " and 
hear." 
Her doubt ascending unawares 

Methinks must grieve His patient ear ! 



His promise faileth not, I know ; 

And I have learned it Hne by Hne ; 
Then, if believing, why so slow 

Am I to make that promise mine? 



43 



HYMNS. 

Not thus the barren Earth receives 
The sweet assurance of the Spring, 

But putting on her robe of leaves 
In perfect trust begins to sing. 

The April pledge of sun and shower 
She knows the Summer will fulfil, 

Nor fail to spread her golden dower 
In waving wealth from hill to hill. 

And I — I know that He who sends 

The ripening heat, the strengthening rain, 

My lightest breath of prayer attends. 
Nor shall I find His promise vain. 

Dear Lord, whose love doth over-brood 
My faith though cold and faint it be, 

Dispel this doubt that dares intrude 

Between my sorrowing heart and Thee ! 

Dispel this doubt, Thou Heavenly Sun ! 
Thou Spirit sweeter than the Spring ! 
44 



HYMNS. 

Then shall my drooping faith put on 
The garment of Thy praise and sing : 

To Him whose Word shall time outrun, 
To Him whose Blood the promise seals, 

And to the Spirit, Three in One, 
My song shall rise in grateful peals ! 




45 




HUMBLE SERVICE. 




T is an easy thing to say, 

" Thou knowest that I love Thee, Lord ! 
And easy in the bitter fray 

For His defence to draw the sword. 



But when at His dear hands we seek 

Some lofty trust for Him to keep, 
To our ambition vain and weak 

How strange His bidding : " Feed my sheep." 
46 



HYMNS. 

" Too mean a task for love," we cry ; 

Remembering not if, in our pride, 
We pass His humbler service by. 

Our vows are by our deeds denied. 

O Father ! help us to resign 

Our hearts, our strength, our wills to Thee 
Then even lowliest work of Thine 

Most noble, blest, and sweet will be ! 




47 




MY FIELD. 




WILL not wrong thee, O To-day, 
With idle longing for To-morrow ; 

But patient plough my field, and sow 
The seed of faith in every furrow. 



Enough for me th? loving light 

That melts the cloud's repellent edges ; 

The still unfolding, bud by bud, 

Of God's most sweet and holy pledges. 
48 



HYMNS. 

I breathe His breath ; my Hfe Is His ; 

The hand He nerves knows no defrauding, 
The Lord will make this joyless waste 

Wave with the wheat of His rewarding. 

Of His rewarding ! Yes ; and yet 
Not mine a single blade or kernel ; 

The seed is His ; the quickening His ; 
The care, unchanging and eternal. 

His, too, the harvest song shall be, 

When He who blest the barren furrow 

Shall thrust His shining sickle in, 
And reap my little field To-morrow. 




49 



^ 




A HARVEST HYMN. 



Written for the Ameshury a7id Salisbury Agricultural Exhibition, 
Sept. 17, 1S60. 




HAPPY day, returned once more, 
With golden plenty still replete ! 

As though she never gave before, 

Earth pours her treasures at our feet ! 



And ne'er did ruddier fruit fulfil 

The rosy prophecies of May ; 
Ne'er did the rugged lands we till 

Yield sweeter corn, or flowers more gay. 

50 



HYMNS. 

Not one among the many here 

Who prune the tree, or plough tlie soil, 
But has some share in Nature's cheer — 

Some liberal recompense for toil. 

Yet none his choicest stores may boast 
Of flowers, or fruits, or garnered grain ; 

For labor of his hands were lost, 
Unblest by heaven's refreshins" rain. 

O, thanks to God ! whose love abides, 
And scatters bounties everywhere ; 

Who in the heart of Nature hides 
The germ of His unfailing care^ 

More rich than Autumn's robe of leaves 
Should be the garments of our praise ; 

And ampler than her ample sheaves 
The charities that crown our days. 

More fragrant than the meadow's breath 
The incense of our souls should rise, 

51 



HYMNS. 

From Life's rude altars wreathed by Faith 
With borrowed bloom from Paradise. 

O, clearly, then, could we behold 

In flowers that fade, and fruits that fall, 

Sweet hints, which earthly gifts enfold. 
Of treasure stored in Heaveii for all ! 




52 




THE BELL IN THE TOWER. 




HEAR the bell in the high church-tower, 

Striking the hour ; 
The hushed Night hearkens, like one who 

stands 
In sudden awe, with uplifted hands ! 



A Spirit up in the tower doth dwell, 

And when the bell 
Peals out the hours, with a measured chime, 
I hear him turning the sands of time ! 

53 



HYMNS. 

He says : '' Life dieth with every breath ! " 

Whispers of Death : 
" It is the fall of the flower of Earth ; 
The promise-seed of immortal birth ! '* 

He speaks to the striving world below : 

" Why do ye so? 
Will all the treasure that hand can hold 
Buy sweeter sleep in the church-yard mould? 

" Behold one God, over great and small, 

Judgeth ye all ! 
Ask Him for grace in the morning light, 
And pray for pardon and peace at night ! " 

O, while I listen my whole soul bows, 

Paying her vows ; 
And folly fleeth with sinful fear, 
As those clear bell-strokes fall on my ear ! 

For not more solemn the holy chimes, 
In other times, 
54 



HYMNS. 

That helped the faithful to pray aright, 
And put the sj)irits of air to flight ! 

And ever — ever would I be near, 

Daily to hear — 
Daily and nightly, in work or rest. 
The Voice that pierces and soothes my breast ! 




55 




THE WORLDLING. 




HE bluest skies, the softest airs, 
The sweetest odors fill the day. 
And morning lays her loveliest snares 
To lure the worldling on his way. 



Here from ten thousand flickering leaves 
Her breezy fingers shake the dew, 

The w^hile a shadow-net she weaves, 

Large flakes of splendor sifting through. 
56 



HYMNS. 



The sweeping fields are starred with gold — 
Bright glimpse of Nature's garnered wealth ; 

And there the sweet brier's buds unfold 
To take his heedless heart by stealth. 

There deftly stretched on grassy spears 
The spider's curious web outlies ; 

A marvel hung with heaven's own tears, 
It catches not his roving eyes. 

Amid the elm-tree's feathery spray 

The tireless robin whistles clear, 
And from the woods that skirt the way 

With verdure constant all the year — 

Hark ! — deep within their deepest hush. 
Divinely calm, and rapture-sweet, 

The singing of the Hermit-thrush 
Fills and o'erflows his blest retreat. 

On glancing wings the butterfly 

Hints how the soul new-born to bliss, 

57 



HYMNS. 

For the wide freedom of the sky 
Forsakes her narrow chrysahs. 

He does not hear, he does not see — 

The worldhng wrapt in worldly schemes ; 

What wonder then that such as he 

Count faith's most glorious visions, dreams ! 

If all that he might see and touch 
Be lost upon his grovelling soul — 

If Nature's little be too much, 

Can he receive the sacred Whole? 

Stay ! lest our judgment set a bound 
For Him who notes the sparrow's fall, 

Who in a loving, endless round 
Of benefactions cares for all. 

He in the form of man restored 

The blind, the deaf, the dumb of old ; 

As then men cry, " Have mercy, Lord ! " 
Still clinging to His garments' fold. 

58 



HYMNS. 

Nor these alone He patient heeds, 
But still the stubborn knee he bends ; 

Still gently answering all their needs 
Wins foe and stranger for His friends. 

Pass on, poor worldling ! unaware 
That, self-rebuked for judging thee, 

I track thee with a silent prayer 

To Him who gave my sight to me : — 

Reveal Thyself, O Christ the Whole, 
And Nature's Part shall glorious shine ; 

Flash all Thy beauty on his soul — 
Thy beauty is indeed divine ! 

Reveal Thyself, O Lovely One, 

And he shall count Creation nought 

But the fair robe Thou puttest on — 
A robe of light with wonders wrought ! 



59 




THE RIVER. 




BOVE the winding River's brink 

The tall trees wave their branches green ; 
Their cool brown roots, washed bare and 
clean, 

Reach down through cooler depths to drink. 



" Behold, how heavenly is my task ! 
Methinks the River murmurs low 
" As God bestoweth, I bestow ; 

To be like Him is all I ask." 
60 



HV^MNS. 

O River ! thou and I are one 
In sweet desire to serve and be, 
Yet every day I grieve to see 

Hovs^ all my deeds do self-ward run ! 




6i 




A L L' S WELL. 




HE day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep 

My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine 
Father ! forgive my trespasses, and keep 
This Httle life of mine. 



With loving kindness curtain Thou my bed ; 

And cool in rest my burning pilgrim-feet ; 
Thy pardon be the pillow for my head — 
So shall my sleep be sweet. 

62 



HYMNS. 

At peace with all the world, dear Lord, and Thee, 
No fears my soul's unwavering faith can shake ; 
All's well ! whichever side the grave for me 
The morning light may break ! 




"3 



IL 



POEMS OF CONSOLATION, 




65 



iC\ 



'^^i/ 



THE GUEST. 



" Behold, I stand at the door, and knock : if any man hear m y 
voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with 
him, and he with me." — Rev. iii. 20. 




PEECHLESS Sorrow sat with me 
I was sighing wearily ! 
Lamp and fire were out : the rain 
Wildly beat the window-pane. 
In the dark we heard a knock ; 
And a hand was on the lock ; 
One in waiting spake to me, 

Saying sweetly, 
^''I am come to sup witJi thee I ^^ 

67 



HYMNS. 

All my room was dark and damp ; 
" Sorrow ! " said I, " trim the lamp ; 
Light the fire, and cheer thy face ; 
Set the guest-chair in its place." 
And again I heard the knock : 
In the dark I found the lock : — 
" Enter ! I have turned the key ! — 

Enter, Stranger ! 
Who art come to sup with me." 

Opening wide the door, he came ; 
But I could not speak his name : 
In the guest-chair took his place ; 
But I could not see his face ! 
When my cheerful fire was beaming, 
When my little lamp was gleaming. 
And the feast was spread for three, 

Lo ! my Master 
Was the Guest that supped with me ! 



68 




THE BELOVED TEACHER. 



THOUGHT : what numbers press to pay 
Their homage to the good man's worth ; 

And close, with loving, reverent hands 

The grave's green entrance — eai'th to 
earth I 



Not they alone who crowd the church — 
A larger gathering flocks this way ; 

A youthful train that stretches far 
Down many a joyous yesterday. 

69 



HYMNS. 

Along the line of twoscore years 
Id fair procession see them throng ! 

And one — the least among them — breaks 
The silence with a sorrowing^ song- ; — 

The home is darkened where he dwelt. 
And, unrestrained by roof or wall, 

Out-circling to a thousand more 
That solemn darkness touches all. 

O genial, generous, faithful soul, 

Unfaltering even to the end, 
Thou hast " dismissed" us all, and dropt 

The hand of pupil and of friend ! 

Dropt them for that Most Blessed Hand 
Whose pierced palm our lips have prest 

In love's allegiance — saying low, 

With broken utterance : God kfzows best. 

No more wilt thou thy books unclose. 
Awarding honest blame or praise : 
70 



HYMNS. 

The Holy Teacher teaches us 

From the full volume of thy days. 

Fair as the palm-tree's fairest height, 
And goodly as the cedar's shade, 

The memory of thy virtue fills 

The void thy vanished life hath made. 

One word : Farewell ! a word of peace, 
Across the stream of death it lies ; 

A bridge, beyond whose slender arch 
No sorrow lives — no dear hope dies. 




71 




CHARLIE. 




HARLIE ! did the great and Holy City 
Seem so far — so far beyond? — 
That thine eyes should turn to faces fond, 
Sad, with hopeless watch, and pale, — 
Faces bowed in human pity — 
Unavailing^ human pity — 
With that most pathetic wail : — 
^''Afany, many weary steps I " 
72 



HYMNS. 

When thy patient hand did cling 

To the parent hand, 
While thy footsteps faltering, 

Neared the Promised Land ; 
Did'st thou learn how frail a thing 

Is the strongest hand of earth ? 

Love that clasped thee at thy birth, 

Failed to bear thee unto death. 
Sad complaint ! and sweet petition ! 

Answered only by despair — 

By Affection's dumb despair — 
That o'er-leaned thy weak condition : 

Weaker even than thy weakness ; 

Palsy-stricken when thy breath 

Shaped these words of mournful meekness ! 
^^Afany, many weary steps ! " 

O Thou Most Compassionate ! 

Shepherd, in Thy Kingly State — 
While the " Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! " 
Ebbs and flows around thy feet — 



73 



HYMNS. 

Rolling through the seraph-throng 
Like a mighty sea of song', 

Breaking, wave on wave, with roar 
Of majestic exultation. 
Of ecstatic adoration. 

On an ever-listening shore ! — 
Thou dost bend Thine ear 

In each thrilling pause to hearken 
To the pulses of Creation ; — 

To the wails that rend the skies ; 
To the praying of the lowly ; 
To the faintest infant-sighs ! 

When the twilight shadows darken 
In these barren wastes below, 
Where Thy flocks are wandering slow, 

Thou dost hear the young lambs bleat ! 
Gentle Shepherd ! Thou dost see 
Prayerful eyes upraised to Thee : 
Holy Shepherd ! Thou dost heed 
Every cry of grief or need. 
Ah ! more meek than mourner's face ; 



74 



HYMNS. 

Wilder than Love's wild despair ; 
More impassioned than its prayer ; 
And more pitiful by far, 
Than Earth's selfish moanings are, 

Was that soft beseeching glance — 
Was that plaintive utterance. 
Drifting to Thy Holy Place — 

'''•Many^ many weary steps I ^^ 

Vain, indeed, that " human plaint," 

Poured into the human ear ! 
Vain the arm of man or saint. 
Stretched to raise the drooping child ! 

Yet, O Shepherd ! Thou did'st hear 
Thou did'st lift the little stranger — 
(Stranger to that awful '^ wild") 

In Thine Infinite embrace ! 
Lifted him from every danger ; 
Lifted him from every woe ; 

While the glory of Thy face, 
Touching it with amber glow. 



75 



HYMNS. 

Made the deathful darkness seem 
Like the dawn of heavenly dream ! 

Peace profound, and sweet as deep, 
With its spell of silence, stole 
O'er the little longing soul — 

In Thine arms he fell asleep ! 

Nevermore those feet shall weary 

On the death-road, lone and dreary ; 

Nevermore that spirit-cry, 

Born of mortal agony, 

As he passed through life's eclipse — 
Shall escape those patient lips : — 
" Many^ many weary steps /" 

O Thou most compassionate ! 
Comfort them that follow on 
In the way the child hath gone ! 
Give them strength, dear Christ ! to bear 

Every cross of sorrow ; 
Knowing that the brows of Care 

Thou wilt crown to-morrow ! 
76 



HYMNS. 

Knowing that Thy pitying ear, 
Ever Earth-ward bent, will hear, — 

When the heart and flesh shall fail, 
In the journeying through the night, 
With Thy Heaven almost in sight — 
That sad, human, thrilling wail : — 

" Many, many weary steps ! " 




77 




ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD. 




N rest untroubled lies her fair young head : 

Cold is her shroud ; colder the heart below ! 
No more the feverish pulses come and go ; 
The watchers are the watchers of the dead. 



Sad eyes that saw her fade, are full of tears ; 

Fond hands that smoothed her pillow, clasped in 

prayer ; 
And Love goes wailing in its dark despair, 
Till the sweet dawning of God's grace appears. 
78 



HYMNS. 

O blest the soul whose voice of faith can say 

In the storm-lulls of grief — " Thy will be done ! 
O blest the soul that trusts the Holy One, 

Who in His bosom bears His lambs away ! 




79 



"RED, WHITE, AND BLUE.' 



TO T. T. 




ED CYPRESS ! unto him who grieves, 

Reading sad legends in thy leaves, 

And finding in thy flower 

An emblem of the heart that bleeds. 

Say : The red blossom which I bear 

Doth symbolize 

The sacrifice 

Of that sublimest hour 

When Love fulfilled all human needs ; 

Bound Death, the Victor, as a slave ; 

Flung wide the sealed gates of the Grave, 

And set His angels, warders, there. 
So 



HYMNS. 

White Rose ! to him who gathers thee 
The Flower of Consolation be, — 

Unfolding peace, and not despair. 
With sharpest thorns set round. 

Teach him how Life may wear 
Sharp griefs, and yet be crowned ! 

Blue Harebell ! that dost tremble 
To the weird breath of Sorrow, 

Be to the mourning one Faith's symbol ; — 
Since thou dost borrow 
The same soft hue 

Her eyes have won with constant looking up 

God filleth thine inverted cup 

With heaven's own blue ; 

So shall His sweet assurance fill 

The heart bowed meekly to His will. 




8i 




AFTER THE STORM. 




LL night, in the pauses of sleep, I heard 

The moan of the Snow-wind and the Sea, 
Like the wail of Thy sorrowing children, O 
God! 
Who cry unto Thee. 



But in beauty and silence the morning broke, 

O'erflowing creation the glad light streamed ; 
And Earth stood shining and white as the souls 
Of the blessed redeemed. 
82 



HYMNS. 

O glorious marvel in darkness wrought ! 

With smiles of promise the blue sky bent, 
As if to whisper to all who mourn, 
Love's hidden intent. 




S3 



